


Needed

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: PoTS Stocking Exchange [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Affection, BAMF Steve Rogers, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapped Tony Stark, M/M, Nomad Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rebuilding, Rescue, Sokovia Accords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: “I told you, Tony,” Steve said quietly, “That if you needed me, I’d be there.”  Tony found himself momentarily stunned into silence and Steve took the opportunity to press his point. “If I had signed those Accords, I would still be forced to sit and wait while they discussed whether or not it was worth the resources to send someone after you."
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: PoTS Stocking Exchange [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626244
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019





	Needed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiwiBerry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiBerry/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [KiwiBerry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiBerry/pseuds/KiwiBerry) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> 1) Discord Handle 
> 
> thatkiwiperson 
> 
> 2) Short Prompts
> 
> —post-cw superfamily  
> —morally gray/morally ambiguous Steve Rogers  
> —any canon compliant hurt/comfort 
> 
> 3) Long Prompts
> 
> —Avengers 2012 AU. Loki’s mind control actually works on Tony pre-Battle of New York. Cue Avengers having to fight Tony with pre or eventual Stony feelings?
> 
> —There’s a post going around about how someone’s sister thought Tony had made a robot daughter in Endgame. Please write the fic this deserves. You can follow the link here: https://stanallah.tumblr.com/post/189090355023/i-feel-like-im-losing-my-mind-this-is-legit-the
> 
> —Inspired by Home by Edward Sharpe and Magnetic Zeros. Basically Avengers family fluff featuring Stony. 
> 
> —Vigilante/Outlaw Steve AU. I’m thinking Nomad/Post-Cw Steve, but doesn’t have to be. I just want Steve to defy the “good American boy” stereotype and show just how dangerous and lethal he can be. Pair that with a Tony who is both scared of and turned on by him? Like conflicting feelings because Steve is being bad but Tony is also very intrigued by “take what he wants” Steve. Could be pre or post relationship. I just really want a Steve who’s skilled with knives. 
> 
> 4) Do Not Wants
> 
> Major character death (unresolved), rape, abo dynamics, no powers AU, high school AU, bathroom kinks, genderswap, character bashing, bdsm dynamics (sexual or romantic).
> 
> 5) Non-AO3
> 
> I love any and everything. Fanvids, playlists, moodboards, fanart, etc. You make it, I’ll shower it with my love and affection <3

Frankly, Tony had grown beyond tired of the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing before he even reached puberty. While Afghanistan was by far the most memorable and damaging both physically and psychologically, it hadn’t been the first time he had been taken. Annoyingly enough, it apparently hadn’t been the  _ last _ time either. 

His fingers ached as he patiently attempted to untie the knotted wire that bound his wrists behind his back. He had long since tuned out the man pacing in front of him, monologuing to his poor heart’s content. Seriously, monologuing. It was all Tony could do to keep from rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

He was almost flattered though. Who ever had taken him this time had taken significant measures to keep him. No weapons had been brought into the room where he was being held. The ends of the wire tying him were kept well out of reach, unfortunately. The randomized EMP blasted at him every so often was a nice touch. 

By his internal estimations, Tony had been captive for just over 24 hours. The first few hours had been spent unconscious followed by the bad-guy-typical conversation by way of fists. After that was lights out. Literally, they turned the lights out on him and left him in the room with nothing but the odd EMP blast for company, which suited Tony just fine. And then this guy. On and on and on. Was Tony really supposed to be intimidated? Because this wasn’t doing it. No matter how his ribs and face throbbed or his hands ached.

The man in question turned to face Tony again and opened his mouth, probably to spew more threats or sanctimonious bullshit rhetoric only to freeze with a barely audible gasp, hands flying up to press against his throat. Tony frowned in confusion until he saw red leaking from between his fingers. 

Huh.

The man dropped to the floor face first, a puddle of red pooling out and staining the concrete floor around him. Tony looked up from the body and blinked rapidly in confusion at the black clad new arrival who was striding towards him with confident, vaguely familiar, strides. He didn’t catch sight of the face of his apparent rescuer before the large form moved behind him. Large hands closed around his bound wrists and held them carefully. Tony felt a tug and the wires holding him gave way.

Any further consideration was disrupted by the heavy thuds of incoming footsteps. The body behind him tensed and caught Tony’s upper arm in a firm hold, pulling him bracingly to his feet, “Don’t have much time, let’s go.”

“ _ Steve? _ ” Tony sputtered, head swinging around to stare up at the man in disbelief. The last time he’d seen Steve had been in the cold Siberian bunker, dropping the shield on the concrete before limping away without a backwards glance. “What are you doing here, Rogers?”

“Picked up on the distress call,” Steve answered shortly, releasing his hold on Tony’s arm when he was certain that he was steady. His deep voice was heavy with disdain when he continued. “Sources said that they’re still  _ discussing it _ among the Council.”

Before Tony could question further, three well-armed men pushed their way into the room and Steve immediately launched into action. And wow. That was...that was something. Tony had always been morbidly fascinated by watching Steve Rogers fight. For such a large man, he moved with surprising grace and had always wielded the shield like it was an extension of himself. Tony wasn’t remotely surprised that, even without the iconic shield, Steve still had the same grace of movement.

He ducked and dodged the weapons fire and the blade of a knife flew as true as the shield ever had and found its mark in the right eye socket of the first man. The second tried his luck with hand to hand, shrieking when a heavy hand landed on his wrist and wrenched, crushing the fragile bones before the butt of Steve’s knife was jammed with unchecked strength into his nose at an upward angle. The third man, apparently, decided that fleeing was the best option. Before he had managed more than two steps, the blade of the same knife was embedded deep in his back. 

Tony blinked. By his estimation the entire thing had only taken an impressive fifteen seconds. That was...that was something alright. Tony shook his wandering thoughts back to the present in time to watch Steve yank his knife free of the first man’s eye, wiping it clean absently on the pant leg of his tac suit before moving to do the same with the second knife. A careless shove with his boot pushed the body out of the entryway. Blue eyes shot back to Tony thoughtfully as he replaced the knives back into whatever place he stashed them in that uniform when they weren’t in use.

“Since when do you do knives?” Tony asked before his mind had fully caught up with him. He finally caught a good look at the man and felt his brows climb upwards in surprise. “Is that a  _ beard? _ ”

Steve smirked slightly, the sight both painfully familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and arched his brow in challenge. “If you think my only proficiency was with the shield all this time, your observation skills might be a little rusty, Tony.”

“Right,” Tony said absently. He studied the man opposite him for a brief moment longer, having missed the sight in the past several months than he really cared to admit. Swallowing back words that wanted to climb out of his mouth--this was neither the time or the place to get into airing dirty laundry--Tony stepped forward to take one of the dead men’s weapons and turned to fire several shots in rapid succession into the EMP device, effectively neutralizing it.

“Ready?” Steve asked, eyes raking appreciatively over Tony as the armour began constructing itself around him. Tony nodded firmly and they left the room side by side. Tony quickly realized though that Steve had a mission separate from just rescuing him. The realization hit him when Steve didn’t lead the way directly to the exit, rather he seemed determined to clear the building of all life save their own.

Before Siberia, before the disaster that was the Accords, Steve fought hard but rarely unrestrained. He fought to disable, to put the person down. It was only special occasions that Steve Rogers fought to kill. Hydra was a notable example. 

Now, though, it seemed that he had shed the guise of moral superiority he’d once projected. He was brutal efficiency. He wielded the knives as devastatingly as he had the shield. None of the people they crossed in that building were given the kindness of Steve holding back on the strength and agility afforded to him by the serum. The men he put down weren’t going to be getting back up to try again.

If Tony was honest, this Steve was kind of terrifying. Especially following the ordeal in Siberia. But, if he  _ was  _ being honest, it was also...well...it was more than a little arousing. Watching Steve fight always  _ had been. _

The best part though? They fought together as well, if not better, than they ever had in the past. There was something incredibly cathartic about destroying his captors with Steve at his side making sure the destruction would stick. 

When the last body hit the ground at Steve’s feet, Tony landed beside him with a quiet thud. Steve offered a slightly muted grin, apparently on the same wavelength about fighting together again, and bent to snag his blade from the body. Steve’s head tilted and stared at the man at his feet before snapping forward to wedge the knife in deeper, angling it until it pierced the heart. No emotion crossed his expression as he pulled the knife back and wiped it clean on the dead man’s pant leg and tucked it back into its place.

He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and then up to meet Tony’s gaze when he dropped the faceplate. “You good?”

“All good, Cap,” Tony answered, eyeing the strewn collection of bodies with an odd, morbid sense of satisfaction. 

His attention caught on Steve shaking his head and tilted his head in curiosity. “Not Cap, Tony,” Steve corrected, straightening his posture from the crouch he had taken to tuck one of the knives back into his boot. “Steve, Rogers, Nomad, whatever you wanna use. But I’m not Cap.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Tony responded, smirking in amusement at the exasperated, smirking half-glare Steve shot his direction. “Let’s get out of here.”

Amusement drained slightly from Steve’s expression and he shook his head again, “The doors is as far as I go. You should go ahead, Tony. Get those ribs treated. I’ll handle clean up.”

There was something about the way Steve said ‘clean up’ that drew Tony’s attention. The words were said deliberately and somehow Tony didn’t think he meant just staging the bodies or cleaning up simple evidence of his presence. He arched a brow pointedly in question.

“Just gonna make sure there’s nothing that can be used against either of us,” Steve said easily with a shrug. “Bringing it down, Tony. You should be gone before that happens.”

“Should probably call it in, don’t you think?” Tony questioned.

“No,” Steve said simply, turning away from him and walking away with that calm confidence. “You should go.”

“Come with me,” Tony blurted out, wincing internally at the thinly veiled desperation in his own voice.

Steve froze mid step and slowly turned to face him again, blue eyes studying his face intently. He sighed and shook his head slightly, regretfully, “You know I can’t do that, Tony.”

“Why not?” Tony demanded. “Why’d you even come? Just--Just come with me. This should go a long way in getting the whole fugitive thing cleared up. Steve…”

“I told you, Tony,” Steve said quietly, “That if you needed me, I’d be there.” Tony found himself momentarily stunned into silence and Steve took the opportunity to press his point. “If I had signed those Accords, I would still be forced to sit and wait while they  _ discussed _ whether or not  _ it was worth the resources  _ to send someone after you. You need me? I’ll be there. That’s never gonna change. I won’t allow a piece of paper to stand in the way of that. I won’t be a figurehead, a piece of manipulatable propaganda anymore. I’m sorry, Tony.”

He studied Tony a moment longer, expression softening from the fierce determination that went along with his words. Softening into something that made Tony’s chest ache with echoes of missed opportunities. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re okay,” he said in a tone that matched the expression.

“Yeah, you too,” Tony replied. Something of the residual pain he was feeling must have leaked into either his expression or his tone, maybe both, because Steve crossed the space between them in a few long strides. Tony wasn’t sure if he was more surprised or relieved when strong arms looped around him and pulled him into a firm body that took on even the weight of the suit without hesitation. He retracted the gauntlets and let his bare hands grip at Steve’s back returning the hug eagerly.

After a moment Steve pulled back, a hand coming up to cup the back of Tony’s neck at the nape and gripping with a gentle firmness, tugging forward until their foreheads pressed together. It was a surprisingly sweet gesture from the man who barely blinked at throwing his knife into someone’s eye but not so surprising from the Steve Rogers tat Tony had known for years. Regardless, Tony brought a hand up to mirror the grip, keeping Steve close for an all-too-short moment. When he turned to walk away this time, Tony swallowed heavily and dropped his hands to his side and his gaze to the floor. He found himself slightly amused that the entire exchange had occurred in a building of dead bodies that he and Steve had expended very little energy handling. 

“You’d better answer, Rogers,” Tony called after him, gaze snapping up to watch the retreating figure.

“Count on it, Stark,” echoed back in his direction and Tony could hear the familiar grin in the tone and it drew a matching one from Tony. After a moment, Tony reengaged the suit and took to the air. A repulsor blast took out one of the windows and Tony was free from the building-turned-prison. He was roughly a mile out when the suit’s sensors picked up on the explosion. 

All Tony could think about the entire flight home and through the debriefing regarding his escape--which he took full blame for, because _that_ turned out to be what the Council actually wanted...to _blame_ someone--was getting to that flip phone. Unfortunately, it was another three days before it was safe to do so between dealing with medical, debriefings, and the well-meaning hovering from Pepper and Rodney. 

His hands shook slightly as he picked up the ancient device, worrying briefly that the exchange had been all in his head. After a long moment’s hesitation, Tony thumbed the send key. Two rings and a click indicating the call connected and Tony bit back a sigh of relief that wanted to work its way out of his mouth.

_ “Tony,” _ greeted the warm, familiar voice on the other end.  _ “I’m glad you called.” _

“I--yeah, me too,” Tony agreed, relaxing automatically back into his chair. Everything had changed so much. He certainly had. It was evident that Steve had as well. But this? The comfort that he had nearly always managed to find in conversation, even strained as it was, hadn’t changed at all. And that...that was really something Tony found himself unspeakably grateful for. 


End file.
